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jvJNG ALFRED: 



An Historical Drama. 



BY 



HENRY A'AN RENSSELAER 



AND 



WILLIAM J. STANTON, 

Of the Society of Jehus. 






New York, Cincinnati, and St. (Louis : 

BENZIGER BROTHERS, 

Printers to the Holy Apostolic see. 




flass ^S>G>^y? 

Book sJL : t V^ ';^l 



KING ALFRED: 



A.N Historical Drama 



BY 

LN RENSSELAER 



WILLIAM J. STANTON, 
I 

OF THE SOCIETY OP JESUS. 



The Music for the Songs in lids play is for sale by the Publishers. 



New York, Cincinnati, and St. Louis: 

BENZIGER BROTHERS, 



PRINTERS TO THE HOLY APOSTOLIC SEE. 

1880. 



\ 






7S 



/*7 J 



Copyright, 1885, by Benzigeb Brothers. 



KING ALFRED: 

AN HISTORICAL DRAMA 

IN FIVE ACTS. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



King Alfred. 

Athelnoth, Earl of Mercia, 

Earl of Berkshire, 

" Hampshire, 

" Wiltshire, 

" Somerset, 

Ceolwulf, Earl of Northumbrian 
Edric, Earl of Essex, 



Saxon thanes 

faithful to 

Alfred. 

\ Saxon thanes 
y conspiring 
) against Alfred, 



Asser, Bishop of Sherburne. 

Edwy, page to Alfred. 

Colin, Saxon swineherd. 

Gothrun, Danish prince. 

Armund, " envoy to conspirators. 

Danish lords, troops, scouts, etc. 

Saxon lords, soldiers, attendants, etc. 



KING ALFRED. 



ACT I. 

SCENE I. 



Private apartment in Alfred's castle. Prince Alfred seated 
at a table on ichich lie large books, manuscripts, etc. Edwy, 
liis page, engaged in writing from dictation. 

Alfred. Thou sigbest, little scribe; art weary- 
grown ? 
Too long, perchance, I bend thee o'er thy task. 
In truth, thou dost a man's endurance show 
For toil ; take heart, thy work will soon be done ; 
Then sport and gleeful chase of humming-bird 
Or rabbit wild shall glad thee in the wood. 

Edwy. Good master, let me linger by thy side; 
Not tired am I, for I could write thy words 
From dawn to dusk, yea, all the livelong night, 
And never weary grow of serving thee. 

Alfred. I know it, boy; thou hast thy father's 
soul. 
Ah! well he loved the manuscript to scan, 
And hold communion with those precious thoughts 
Which slumb'ring lie in tomes like pearls in shell, 



6 KING ALFRED. 

Waiting for one who, diving oft and deep, 
Should bring their treasure to the light of day. 
God's holy books he daily conned, and sought 
In our rude tongue their meaning to express. 
What joy for him to read the word thou'st writ, 
And find his thirst for lore in thy young breast! 
But to our task again, my gentle boy. 

[Alfred dictates from Bible. 
" Beatus vir qui timet Dominum" — 
" A blessed man is he who feareth God." 
Write quickly, boy; the candle burns apace 
That I have set to mark the passing hours. 

Enter Attendant, l. l. 

Attendant. Two thanes, my lord, crave audience 

of your grace. 
Alfred. Bid them approach. [Exit Attendant. 
(To Edwy.) What tidings can they bring? 

Enter Athelnoth and Somerset, l. l. 

Athelnoth. Hail, Anglia's king ! 
Somerset. Hail, Saxons' choice ! 
Alfred. Sweet friends, amazement holds me 
bound; 
I know not what ye would: the king still lives. 
It cannot be that treason lurks beneath 
Your speech and lures me on to perfidy ! 

Somerset. Alack! thy brother's noble heart now 
beats 



ACT T. 7 

No more responsive to his country's call. 

Those wounds we deemed so light have set afree 

The soul that was the life of all this realm. 

Alfred {excited). Why sooner came ye not, that 

I might be 
The close companion of his failing hours, 
To pillow on my breast his drooping head; 
To cool his brow and moist his parched lips; 
To wipe from off his glazing eye the film 
That death was spreading there; to speak those words 
Which lift the shrinking soul beyond despair 
And give it foretaste of the bliss to come ! 

[Alfred weeps. 
Athelnoth. Death all too sudden fell. For as 

it chanced, 
We spake of battles past and fields of fame; 
The king upstarted with his wounds unscarred, 
And, in the heat of val'rous thought, he burst 
The scarfs which held the crimson tide that welled 
From out the hurts which Danish swords had 

wrought ; 
And, in the outflow of his gen'rous heart, 
He breathed forth his soul. 

Somerset. Yet lives the king ! 

For kings do never die. Hail, Anglia's king ! 
The star of Alfred radiant mounts the dark 
Horizon of our land, made desolate 
By foemen come from Norway's rugged shores. 



8 KING ALFRED. 

Alfred (demurs). Nay, noble earls, not fit am I 
to wield 
The sceptre death has wrested from the grasp 
Of Ethelred; and weak to combat foes 
Whom e'en his mighty valor scarce could check. 

Somerset. Thy words, my liege, become thy 
modesty; 
Thy deeds in clarion tone give them the lie. 
For thou hast proved thyself at Eschendune, 
Where like a lightning-bolt thou hurl'd'st thyself 
On Denmark's hosts and clav'st their ranks in twain. 

Alfred (still hesitating). But I am young in 
years, and little skilled 
To adjust the nice perplexities of rule, 
To frame those laws which make a nation great. 
Nay, rather seek for one whose wisdom speaks 
In every act, whose prudence hath matured 
Watching the changeful workings of the years. 

Athelnoth (loosens his sword-belt and offers 
sword). My lord, in such a time, this sword cuts 

through 
All argument. 'Tis Ethelred's ! He girt 
Me with it when about to die, and bade 
Me wear it till the hour I hailed thee king. 

[Alfred still hesitates. 
Refuse it not ; its lustre ne'er was dimmed 
By aught save Daneman's gore ; the rising hopes 
Of loyal hearts, oppressed by foreign yoke, 



ACT I. 9 

Do turn to thee to wear it in their cause. 

Somerset. Thy spirit's native majesty doth bid 
Thee take thy royal brother's blade 
And lead thy people on to victory. 

Alfred. I yield me ; who so base as not to glow 
At touch of noble fire, which from the heart 
Leaps out at mention of his country's woes ! 
When Heaven calls, man must obey. Come then 
What will, I bow me to my destiny. 
Give me that kingly steel {girds on sword). I feel 

within 
My breast the spirit of my sires burn, 
And urge me on to deeds of high emprise. 
Good thanes, go tell the nobles I accept 
Their trust, and make ye ready for the war 
That with its din will fright our land once more. • 

\Exeunt Thanes, l. l. Alfred turns to his books. 
Farewell, companions of my peaceful hours, 
Your sweet society I now forego 
For sterner comrades — helm and sword. 
No more my pensive soul, on fancy's wings, 
Shall soar beyond the things of sense — no more 
Find philosophic rest beneath thy spell. 

[ Gazes on them lovingly awhile. 

Edwy. And wilt thou leave me here among thy 
books ? 
Shall Edwy not become thy little squire ? 
When on the march, I'll hold thy casque, 



10 KING ALFRED. 

And woo thine eyes to sleep with low-breathed song. 
Alfred. Fair child, thy slender frame encom- 
passes 
But ill thy heart grown big with noble thought. 
How could thy sapling form keep rooted life 
Amid the riving blasts of ragged war ? 
Stay sheltered for a while within these walls, 
Till sturdy grown. Yet, ere I go, thou'lt sing, 
What now I crave, some restful melody. 
Edwy (sings). 

Holy Mother, guard thy knight 

Mid the storm and wrack of battle, 
When the swords are red with fight 

And the darts on armor rattle. 
Holy Mary, maid unflecked, 
From all ills thy knight protect ! 

When the faint stars softly light 

Noble corses of the slain, 
Holy Mother, grant thy knight 

Lie not stark upon the plain. 
Holy Mary, maid unflecked, 
From all ill thy knight protect ! 

Alfred. I thank thee, boy ; thy song will ring 
above 
The battle's roar and speak me words of hope. 
Farewell ! Nay, Edwy, yield thee not to tears. 
Heaven bless thee, child, and grant thee many years ! 



ACT I. 11 



SCENE II. 

A Forest. 
Miter Saxon Conspirators talking, r. u. 

Ceolwulf. Nay, Edric, speak no more ; I will 
not brook 
A stripling's rule. Shall we our trophies bring 
And tribute pay to one who is a babe 
In arras compared with our advanced estate? 

Edric. Why, man, the fame of Alfred ringeth 
through 
The land since on that day at Eschendune 3 
Like blazing meteor madly rushing forth, 
He on the Norsemen scorching fell and left 
Them shrivelled on the plain, while in his tent 
His royal brother lingered o'er his prayers. 

Ceolwulf. If then his martial prowess dazzle 
thee, 
Go flutter round this new alluring light 
Like silly moth which courts a fatal flame. 
Go learn thy letters from this noble scribe, 
Who better knows the scribbled page of books 
Than temper of a sword. Go join the ranks 
Of chanting clerks and pious praying monks, 
And add your glory to the court of him 
Who aims at grasping all the heptarchy. 

[Edric starts. 
But as for me, I'll never lay my crown 



12 KING ALFRED. 

At this boy's feet ; and, at his peril, let 
Him dare to catch at it ! 

Edric. Dost think he dreams 

To strip us of our coronals, and merge 
The several realms in one ? Can such supreme 
Ambition dwell in breast so young as his ? 

Ceolwulf. Aye, can and does. I tell thee, 
noble prince, 
That self -same Alfred will o'ertop us all 
With craft that lackeys unto craven hearts. 

Edric. What footsnares shall w r e weave to trip 
him in 
His upward march to sov'reignty ? A chief 
Am I by native right and cannot stoop 
To vassalage ! 

Ceolwulf. Well spoken like a lord 
Of Saxon line. 

Armund, Dane, enters, l. c. Edric draws on him as 

an enemy. 
Hold, Edric ! 'tis a friend. 

Edric. A friend ! and yet a Dane ! Hath iEthiop 
changed 
His skin ? If so it be, then will I call 
Him friend. What means this riddle, Ceolwulf ? 

Ceolwulf. Its meaning's clear and easy to unfold. 
You wish to hold your throne, here is the way : 
Bold Gothrun, whom the Danemen call their king, 
Hath sent his envoy now to treat with us. 



ACT I. 



13 



Edric. What ! treat with us ! What compact 
can there be 
'Twixt Saxons and a Dane, save that which, writ 
In blood, the sword-point forces on a foe ? 

Ceolwulf. I grant that hitherto our fiercest strife 
Hath been with alien hordes ; but now there lurks 
A foeman, sprung of Saxon blood, more dread 
Than open enemy. His name you ken. 
Choose whether you will be a pygmy prince 
Beneath his giant sway, or reign a king 
Unshackled by his suz'rainty ! 

Aemund (breaks in). Give ear. 

My master Gothrun guarantees to leave 
You independent lord of all your states, 
Will you but join your ranks with his and make 
A common headway 'gainst our common foe. 

[Edric hesitates. 
Ceolwulf. Wilt vassal be or king ? 
Edric (musingly, half aside). I fain would rule, 
Yet how endure to rule at such a cost ? 
How turn my lance upon my country's breast 
And reign through Danish grace, at price of blood 
Of Saxons slain ? Yet can I bend me down 
To vassalage ? With two opposing tides 
My heart is vexed. One bears me onward to 
A strand where many circle round a chief. 
The other drives me headlong on a rock 
Where I may walk supreme, yet ruin find ! 



14 KING ALFRED. 

Ceolwulf. Nay, be a man, and choose a manly 
role 
To play. Wilt reign or serve ? 

Edeic. Methinks we rear 

Our hopes on shifting sand — a Daneman's word. 
[Turns to Armujstd.) What warrant can you give 
of Gothrun's faith ? 
Aemund. His oath by Odin and by Thor — the 
gods 
That rule Walhalla's hall. Nay, more : his son 
Shall stand a hostage for my master's word. 

[Edeic still hesitates, but seems moved. 
Ceolwulf. Why halt so long 'twixt such ex- 
tremes as these, 
Or reign o? serve ? 

Edeic (aside). Halfway I pause upon 
The steps that reach unto a throne ; shall I, 
Now fearful, backward turn or higher mount 
Till I attain the apex of my hopes ? 
(Aloud.) My choice I fix — my lot I cast : I reign ! 

Ceolwulf. Said like a king ! Now, noble Dane, 
Unfold your plans and speak your lord's behests. 
Aemund. Not here, good thanes, but in my tent, 
where we 
Can pledge success in lordly cups of wine. 

Edeic Lead on, lest from my new intent I bend. 

Ceolwulf. Lead on ; our footsteps to a crown do 

tend. [Exeunt, 



ACT II. 15 



ACT II. 

SCENE I. 

Swineherd's hut. Alfred in peasant dress. An open hearth 
with fire on which cakes are baking. Alfred sits mending 
bow and arrows; takes bow and says: 
Alfred. Good bow, the last remaining of my 
friends, 
How often hast thou stood me in good stead ! 
With thee in many a glade I followed swift 
The antlered monarch of the herd and twanged 
The fatal shaft, that smote his panting flank 
And laid him victim to the ruthless hounds. 
But now my fate hath made me pitiful, 
Since I, like hunted stag, have covert sought, 
Escaping scarce from Danish f oemen's darts 
And barbs of trait'rous friends. They deemed me 

dead, 
For I was hid from sight amid the slain, 
And only rose and dragged myself away 
When gloom of night had veiled the battle-plain. 
That night I made my couch on rushes dank, 
Mid croaking frogs and hoot of horned owl — 
Sole comrades of my fallen state. In dreams, 
Once more I sat in council-hall with earls 
Who vied in acts of courtliness. I waked — 
To find myself an outcast and alone, 



16 KING ALFRED. 

With hardly strength to crawl unto this hut, 
Which, in the darkness, had unsighted stood. 
[Smell of burning cakes. Miter Colin, the swine- 
herd, sniffing the air. 

Colin. Whew ! what's burning ? As I live it's 
them cakes as Margery set me to watch, and I set 
this lazy lout to mind. He's good for naught ! Look 
ye at this ! {Shaking cake at Alfred.) A pretty 
barley-cake indeed ! This comes of your moping 
and mumbling to yourself the whole day long. Out 
upon ye ! Oh, my poor barley-cakes ! ( Wrings 
his hands.) Oh, you stupid dolt ! 

Alfred. Good Colin, chide me not; I did forget — 

Colin {interrupting him, and repeats sneeringly:) 
"I did forget" ! Aye, that ye did ! Ye may for- 
get to mind the cakes, but ye mind not to forget to 
eat them. {Laughs at his wit. Alfred, confused, 
goes to examine the cakes.) Ye may mind your 
bow and arrows now, though what's the use of them 
I don't see. Ye idle mope. 

Alfred. Nay, Colin, I did bring thee home a buck 
The other day, which Margery did sell. 

Colin. She did, did she ? I dreamt of venison ! 
But she's a shrewd one. She kept it close from me. 
I'll be bound she's gone to gossip with some crones 
about a new gown, and left me here to do her work. 
Let her bide at home and bake {mock courage) ; I'll 
tell her so when she comes back. What's that ! 



ACT II. 17 

{starting at a sound.) I thought I heard her footstep ! 
Let's hide away these tell-tale cinders before she conies. 
Oh ! she's a terror when she's mad, and it doesn't take 
much to set her going. Whew ! What shall I tell 
her when she asks about her cakes? (Turns on 
Alfred and says :) Come, you lazy clown, lend me 
a hand to sweep up and make ready a new batch. 
[Colin beats batter and Alfred rakes the fire. 

Colin. Throw some fagots on the fire; it's nearly 
out. 

Alfred. It smould'reth like my royalty nigh lost 

Beneath the ashes of adversity. 

Would I might fan my fortune's flame aglow 

[Blows on fire. 

E'en as 1 now these dying embers blow! 

SCENE II. 

Woods. 
Enter Alfred in peasants dress. 

Alfred (alone). Oh, bitter bread dependence feeds 
upon! 
My only solace now is solitude. 
I'd rather hungry go than share the crust 
Begrudgingly bestowed by churlish hand 
Mid gibing, shrewish words. Yea, sooner far 
The trees shall be my roof, the herbs my food, 
The birds and forest beasts my company. 
O ancient oaks, your silence cheers me now, 



18 KING ALFRED. 

Since tongue of shrew hath railed upon a prince! 
You bow your lofty tops as though you felt 
The insults offered to an unknown king. 
Trill on, ye feathered choristers, your lays 
Of thanks to Him who bounteous feedeth you! 
Around me roam unharmed, O beasts who ne'er, 
Like men, upon their fellows turn and rend! 
How long, my country, shalt thou call to me 
And find me impotent thy ills to stay ? 
When shall I meet again thy champions brave 
And, backed by them, thy dying glory save? 

\Hears footsteps. 
I hear the approaching tread of feet. Shall I 
Withdraw or calmly wait to learn what news 
They bring?- (Hesitates.) Or friends or foes, I'll 

bide them here. 
Enter Athelnoth, Beekshlee, and Wiltshiee. 
They do not recognize Alfeed, but he recognizes 
them. 
Alfeed (aside). My truest friends, although they 

know me not. 
I'll not reveal myself till first I learn 
If they still loyal stand unto my cause. 

Athel. Perhaps this honest fellow here can give 
Us tidings of our hapless prince. (To Alfeed.) Good 

hind, 
Hast seen a noble warrior in these woods ? 
He's tall, and has the bearing of a king; 



ACT II. 19 

He's clad in- armor full, is girt with sword, 
And bears a bow; an azure feather from 
His helmet waves. Say, by these tokens dost 
Thou know the man ? 

Alfred. Aye, such an one did pass 

Some days agone. 

Athel. Where is he now ? Which path 

Pursued he ? 

Alfred. What will ye with him ? Are ye 
His comrades or his foes ? 

Berkshire. His trustiest friends. 

[Athelnoth and Wiltshire frown and make signs 
to keep still. 
Alfred. God give you richest blessings for that 
word ! 
[ Undoes his smock-frock and removes beard. They 
recognize him, fall and kiss his hand.' 
All, 'Tis Alfred! Tis the king! Oh, Heaven be 

praised ! 
Alfred. Yea, Heaven be praised for noblest gift 
to man — 
W 7 arm hearts of leal and loving friends in trial, 
Whose genial currents ne'er congealed grow 
Neath biting blasts of chill adversity ! 

Athel. 'Tis well we met, for in these very 
woods 
The Saxon traitor thanes do now draw nigh 
In quest of thee. Their troops do follow on, 



20 KING ALFRED. 

Yet far behind these two, who hound-like press 
Upon thy trail, too eager for their prey. 
Hist! Even now they come! Conceal thyself. 
[They make 'motions to Alfred to hide. He refuses, 
and motions them to hide. 
Alfred. Nay, rather hide yourselves. Oh, let 
me face 
These wreckers of my throne, and learn of them 
Their treasonous intent ! 

Athel. Thou art unarmed, 

And they are full equipped. 

Alfred. They'll know me not. 

And should they on me draw, then come ye forth. 

[Motions them to hide. They do so. 
Enter Ceolwulf and Edric, r. l. 
Ceol. Ho! clown, hast seen a haughty fellow 
lurk 
Within these shades ? A stranger in these parts, 
Upon whose head a royal price is set, 
Which thou canst gain by opening of thy mouth. 
Alfred. There did a stranger pass along this 
way. 
Was tall? 

Ceol. He was. 

Alfred. In armor clad? 

Ceol. E'en so. 

Alfred. Was there an azure feather in his helm ? 



ACT II. 21 

Ceol. The same. Thou know'st the man. 
Here's gold {offering money)', now lead 
ITg where he hides himself. 

Alfred {dashes money on the ground). He 

hideth not! 

He's here! [Tiemoves beeird, ichile Ceolwulf peiuses 

in surprise, then draws his sword. Athelxoth 

eind Thanes rush out. 

_ Athel. Hold back, thou treach'rous fiend, hold 

back! 
Nor dare to draw thy crime-polluted blade 
Upon thy king. [Ceolwulf strikes at Athelxoth. 
They fight. Ceol. disarmed and Athel. about 
to hill him, when King interposes. 
Alfred. Nay, spare his Saxon blood, 

Though he has lost all right to Saxon name. 
Bind him, but let him live that he may taste 
The mercy of the king he basely wronged. 
[They bind him. Edric in mean time has thrown 

himself on his knees eind asked for mercy. 
Ah! Edric, little did I reck that thou 
Couldst steel thy heart to such a pass, as thus 
To turn thy sword-point 'gainst thy country's breast, 
And join thy forces with thy country's foe. 

Edric. Too deeply I have wronged to crave for 

life. 
Alfred. Yea, deeply wronged; but not so deep 
my wrongs 



22 KING ALFRED. 

But that my clemency can reach those depths. 
Live, Edric, to atone thy woful fault, 
And, battling for thy land in glorious fight, 
With heart's blood wash thy shield to stainless white! 
[Alfred raises Edric from the ground. 
\Exeunt omnss, King Alfred first. 

SCENE III. 

Forest in neighborhood of Colin's hut. 
Enter Colin, l. l., Alfred and Attendants, r. c. 

Colin. Hulloa! hulloa! Where's that mope gone? 
{Sees Alfred, who is again in disguise.) Oh, here 
you are! (Sees others and is put out a little, but takes 
courage and says:) Oh, you're a sharp one! 

Athel. Peace, thou brawling churl! 

[Alfred makes signs to keep still. 

Colin. Oh, you did well to run away before 
Dame Margery came home! You should have heard 
the clatter that she made. Oh, how she stormed 
when she went to look for her cakes ! I didn't mean 
to tell her, but I had to own that you had baked the 
cakes so well (she didn't think it well) that there 
was nothing left but cinders. If we hadn't thrown 
them away, I'm sure she'd have ground them to 
powder and made us drink 'em in water. Oh, it's 
well for you you weren't there! Her fiery tongue 
would have scorched you to a cinder as ye did her 



ACT II. 23 

cakes. I had to stand it all alone. She's calling for 
you now. Come back with me. 

[Takes Alfred by arm and pulls Mm. 

Athel. What means this, knave ? How speak 
you to the king ? 

Colin. King! Who's a king? (Thumping Al- 
fred.) He's my dame's baker; she's got a batch 
ready for him now. He's pale; but won't she brown 
him when she warms him with her tongue! She's a 
fine woman, is Margery — but she has a tongue. Oh 
ho ! [Laughs. 

Athel. Enough of this ! Down, churl, upon thy 
knees, 
And sue for pardon and for life! 

[Alfred throws off disguise. 

Colin (alarmed falls on his knees). Oh, mercy, 
lawkamercy ! Whoever would have thought it! 
Mercy, mercy! And didn't she say, " Lors! that fellow 
should be a king, he's fit for nothing else"? And 
Margery — whatever will become of her ? Oh, I told 
her she scolded you overmuch. Oh, them barley- 
cakes will be the ruin of us! Oh, we're lost, lost, 
lost! Oh, oh, them cakes, them cakes! 

Alfred (laughing, takes him by the hand and 
raises him). Arise, good Colin; thou and I are friends, 
And fellow-sufferers too from thy dame's tongue ; 
Yea, brother-bakers, sooth. Couldst bear to leave 
Thy home and Margery and warrior turn ? 



24 KING ALFRED. 

I'll dub thee baker to my soldiery. 

[Colin grins and nods assent. 
Meet us a few days hence at Egbert's Stone. 
{Turns to Thanes.) Good comrades all, let's speed us 

on our way; 
I see the dawning of a brighter day. 
[Exeunt omnes, l. it., save Colin, ivlw struts across the 
stage brandishing a club. 

Colin. Come on, ye bloody foes! I'll lay it on ye. 
Faith ! I'll be a bold lance. ( Voice heard calling 
"Colin") Oh, there's Margery shrieking after me ! 
What'll she say ? All my courage fails. How'll I 
ever tell her?. And who'll mind the pigs? (Cry 
repeated.) Oh, I must face the foe! I'd rather face a 
hundred Danes than Margery when she's angry. 
But here's for it! I'll be bold! 

[Straightens up, shoulders stick and marches, l. l. 



ACT III. 25 



ACT III. 



SCENE I. 



Danish camp. Tent spread. Under it Alfred with Gothrun 
and Danes. Alfred disguised as a minstrel. 

Gothrun. This merry bard so whiles away the 
hours, 
The day seems scarcely long enough, and night 
Draws on too soon. Fill up a bumper, man, 
Then sing another song. [Alfred/^ goblet. 

Danes. So say we all. 

Alfred {drinks, then sings). 

Fiercely the waters play 

Lashing the prow, 
As ships from Denmark gay 

Steadily plough 
Their course 'gainst wind and tide. 

Past rocks and shoal, 
Steadily, steadily 
Making their goal. 

At last they reach the coast 

Rugged and white. 
Boldly they make their boast, 

Arm for the fight. 



26 KING ALFRED. 

Forward the warriors rush 

In thickest fray, 
Bloodily, bloodily 

Win they the day. 

Madly the Saxon bands 

Yield to the shock; 
Break they beneath our hands 

Like wave 'gainst rock. 
High o'er triumphant hosts, 

Flapping his wings, 
Victory, victory, 
Dark raven * sings. 
[They applaud song. Gothrun throws a bracelet to 
It im. 
Gothrun. Here, minstrel, take the gift thy song 
hath won. 
Whence comest thou ? Why sang ye not before ? 
How art thou called ? 'Tis strange so sweet a bard 
Should hidden lie like dumb forgotten lute. 
Thy name ? 

Alfred {comes forward and takes bracelet / con- 
fused; knows not what to answer). They call 
me Olaf ; and my voice 
Was mute, unwitting that I had the skill 
To touch the chords of passion in thy soul. 

Gothrun. - Thou erst hast been too modest of 
thine art. 

* Raven was the Danish ensign, omen of victory, when by 
waving of the banner the wings appeared to flap. 



ACT III. 27 

Henceforth thou shalt at royal table sit, 
And tune thy harp in Denmark's praise. Make room. 

[Seats Alfred at table. 
My chiefs, we'll seat oar minstrel here. 

Enter Scouts from different quarters. 

What news ? 
l. c. 1st Dane. The Saxons are dispersed on every 

hand. 
e. l. 2d Dane. No army do they raise ; their hope 

is gone. 
l. l. 3d Dane. Nor gleams a single blade against 

the Dane. 
Gothrun. No news is this; I guessed as much before. 
Let's merry-make and rest secure. What need 
Of armor when the foe's disarmed ? Why watch 
When foes stir not abroad ? Why talk of war 
When every wind doth murmur peace ? To wine 
And wassail, gallants all ! And mind ye that 
The common troop make cheer. A holiday 
Proclaim for all who sailed from Norroway ! 

(They sing.) 
Shout, shout for Denmark, ho ! 
Drinking to the raven. 
Shout, shout for Denmark, ho ! 
We've conquered Saxons craven. 
Reaphin, proud reaphin, bird of glorious omen ; 
Reaphin, proud reaphin, thou terror to the foemen ! 
We'll shout, we'll shout, we'll shout ! 



28 KING ALFRED. 



SCENE II. 

Forest-path. Thunderstorm. 

Enter Ceolwulf, l. l. Dress disordered, and un- 
armed. 

Ceolwulf. I never thought to like the rumbling 
roar 
Of thunder-clap, nor in the lightning's glare 
To find a friend to aid me in my dire 
Extremity. Yet so it is ; and I 
Do thank ye, jarring elements, that scared 
Those craven minions of the upstart king, 
That they, forgetting all save thought of life, 
O'erlooked the captive they had basely made. 
I'm free ! O joyful words to one who late 
Was bound like slave with ignominious cords ! 
I'm free ! They'll rue my freedom, who themselves 
Shall soon be bound ! Why, ev'ry drop of blood 
Within my veins seems fired to goad me on 
To seek revenge ! Ah, dastard Edric, could 
I now lay hand on thee, 'twould heavy fall, 
And press thy puny spirit from its home ! 
The body of a man indeed thou hast, 
But quailing courage of a woman's heart. 
I'm free ! Oh, scarce can I believe it true ! 
Two days and nights of bondage were to me 



ACT III. 29 

As many years. I, Ceolwuif , in chains ! 
Let me not muse on it ; 'twill drive me mad ! 

[ Grinds his teeth. 
Ha ! Alfred, thou hast not escaped me yet. 
I'll have another thrust at thee afore 
I die. Thou hop'st to reach thy end and clutch 
Once more the crown. I'll snatch the prize from thee ! 
I'll rouse the Danes to fiercer, bloodier wars ! 
I'll stop at naught to bring about thy fall ! 
Magnanimous thou call'dst thyself, forsooth, 
Because thou sparedst my life ! I thank thee not 
For life in fetters vile ! Ha ! ev'ry wish 
Of jrood I once did know is turned to hate — 
Keen, poisoned hate ! I feel a very fiend 
That thirsts to be revenged ! Revenge would be 
As cooling drops to tongue that cleaveth to 
The parched roof of mouth. I burn with hate ! 
All thought of mercy frightened flees from me ; 
It shrivels as the lily does before 
A fiery f urnace-blast. Ambition ! thou 
Hast turned me from a noble thane into 
A furious devil mad with greed of power ! 
[Sounds of thunder die away and sun comes out. 
Three Saxon Soldiers are seen advancing in pur- 
suit. Ceolwulf gets a glimpse of them, and 
starts alarmed. 
I see the Saxon sleuth-hounds on my track ; 
(Bitterly.) I had forgotten that I was a hare 
By beagles chased. What shall I do ? Where turn ? 



30 KING ALFRED. 

If I advance, they'll sight me without fail. 
I'm spent and footsore, so I cannot lead 
The race and distance them ; unarmed, and one 
To three, how dare I stand and give them fight ? 
Where can I hide ? 

[Looks around for a hiding-place ; sees a fallen 
tree y falls down flat behind it, saying : 

So low I'm brought, the dust 
I'm forced to taste, and, like this fallen oak 
That once did proudly rear its crest, to lie 
All prone upon the earth ! 

Enter, l. u., two Soldiers and Colin, dressed as a 
soldier, between them. 
Colin {looks around timidly). Say, where's he 



gone ? 










1st Soldier. 


He 


can't be far away. 




2d Soldier. 




Well, 


comrades, 


where's 


Our prisoner ? 


I'm i 


sure I saw him, 






1st Soldier. 






Oh, 




He must be near. 








Colin. 


He 


can't escape 


us now. 





[Patting his breast. 
2d Soldier. What say you then to rest awhile ? 
This trunk [Pointing to fallen tree. 

Invites us to a seat. 

1st Soldier. I dare not sit 
Until I lay my hands upon the man. 

Colin. He's good as caught — we're three to one. 
(Tries to drag them to the trunk.) Come, sit. 



ACT III. 31 

1st Soldier. No, not a moment's rest I'll take 
before 
That Ceolwulf is safely tied again. 
He must have iron strength to burst the bonds 
We bound him in. That thunder-storm will cost 
Us p'r'aps our lives. 

2d Soldier. Oh no ; the king is kind, 
And could not punish us with death for such 
An accident. 

1st Soldier. Unlucky accident 
To let him slip ! Do what you like ; no rest 
For me till he is trapped. [ Goes off, r. l. 

2d Soldier (to Colin). We'd better go, 
And then we'll share whatever's to be gained. 
[Exit, R. l., 2d Soldier. Colin lags behind ; stands 
just in front of the tree-trunk, trying to look very 
martial. 

Colin. I'm glad I didn't stay at home a single day 
When once the king had asked for my stout arm 
And stouter heart (2 Klts *0 to ne ^P ^ m 'gainst the 

Danes. 
Faith ! he's a mighty prudent king that knows 
A valiant man when he claps eyes on him. 
Wouldn't Margery be proud if she could see 
Me hunting, not for pigs that went astray, 
But for that black-browed villain Ceolwulf ! 
I'd lay it on him (brandishing pike) if I had him here ! 
[ Goes to sit down on the tree, token Ceolwulf makes 



32 KIKG ALFRED. 

a movement and a sound. Colin jumps up and 

bolts, crying : 
The devil's here ! Oh, I'll be killed, be killed ! 

[Ceolwulf gets up and comes forward. 
Ceol. I breathe again. My body trembles yet 
From dread suspense. I scared that fellow so 
That he will never dare to venture back 
This way. He'll scare the others too, so I 
May follow safely on my road unto 
The Danish camp. Once there, I'll raise 
A tempest that shall burst in ruin on 
The Saxon league ! Ha, ha ! I'll wreak my wrath 
On all who dare oppose my throneward path ! 



SCENE III. 

Camp scene. Moonlight. Gothrun and troops sleeping here 
and there on the ground. Alfred awake. 

Alfred. Now sleep they all ; but not the peace- 
ful sleep 
Of those who rest from labors done, but like 
The ravening beasts that feed and drink till they 
Have sated grown, yet cannot bear to leave 
The enticing bait while drop or fragment still 
Remain. At length they drowsy fall and breathe 
Through open mouths, as if demanding more. 
Sleep on and take your fill, ye greedy curs ; 
I'll give you food ere long to glut your fangs ! 



ACT III. 33 

\Sees Edwt asleep among Danes. Goes over to him 

cautiously. 
But who's that boy whose flaxen locks bespeak 
A Saxon birth ? Methinks I know the lad. 
'Tis Edwy ! Ah ! how came he here mid foes ? 
I left him safe in castle strong secure. 
I'll wake him. [Shakes him gently. 

Edwy, wake, my little scribe ! 

[Edwy rubs his eyes and half wakes. 
Edwy. Who calls ? Must I so soon arise ? I'm 
tired. 
Oh, let me longer sleep, for heavy fall 
My weary eyelids down. 

Alfred. Hush ! softly speak, 

For fear the sleepers thou arouse too soon. 
I am thy master ! Know'st thou not my voice ? 
Edwy. It cannot be ! I'm dreaming still. Oh, 
that 
But once again mine eyes might gaze upon 
My dearest lord ! Would that mine ears might catch 
The gentle words that used of old to fall 
From his dear lips, like silvery chimiug of 
A sacring-bell. 

Alfrsd. Thou dr earnest not, fair child. 
See (removes beard), it is I, your loving lord and 

king. 
[Edwy throws himself at Alfred's feet and kisses 

his hand. 
Quick, tell me what thou doest here, and how 



34 KING ALFRED. 

Didst hither come. Why tarriedst not in keep 
Of castle strong with troops engarrisoned ? 

Edwy. Alack ! no fault of mine hath brought me 
here. 
Thy castle was besieged, and fell a prey 
To cruel Danish hordes. My lady queen 
And thy sweet babe did scarce with life escape ; 
While I, a captive sad, was led to wait 
Upon my new-made lords — to pour the wine, 
And rouse by song their brutish apathy. 

Alfred. O wof ul tidings ! What ! My queen, 
my child 
Were hunted by these hounds — these dogs of Danes ! 
How shall I stay my hand, nor vengeance take 
When now, like sotted beasts, they helpless lie ! 
Yet no ; forbid it, God, that I should strike ! 
The vengeance Thine. Thou wilt in time repay. 
I'll meet them on the battle-plain, and there 
Will force them mercy to implore of me 
For all the ills and woes they brought this land. 
Yea ! sleep secure, ye brutish alien hosts ; 
Not sleeping men I'll touch, nor harm a hair. 
But soon shall many fall into that sleep 
From which there's no arousing. (To Edwy.) Come, 

we'll haste 
Away to Egbert's Stone, for there we'll meet 
My warriors brave ere morrow's sun go down. 
Then comes the fight for victory and my crown ! 



ACT II f. 35 

SCENE IV. 

Egbert's Stone, Sherwood Forest. 

Enter, r. a, Athelnoth, Berkshire, Wiltshire, 

and other Thanes. 

Berks. Is this not Egbert's Stone ? 

Wilts. It is ; and this 

The hour appointed for our meeting here. 
Athel. And yet he cometh not ! Hath aught of ill 
Befallen him ? 

Berks. Nay, Heaven forefend ! 

Wilts. I say 

Amen with all my heart ! 

Berks. And yet 'twas task 

With too great peril fraught to penetrate 
Alone into the hostile camp ! 

Wilts. How could 

He e'er prevail on us to let him risk 
So dear a life, when we were eager to 
Endanger ours for king so true, so leal ! 

Athel. I swear by this my trusty sword, if they 
Do harm one hair of Alfred's head, or spill 
One drop of Alfred's blood, I'll call them to 
So rich a reckoning, not all the heads 
Nor veins of Denmark's warriors can e'er 
Reprisals ample give for deed so foul ! 

Enter Dorset, Somerset, and Hampshire, r. l. 

Wilts. Well met, good thanes, and doubly so 
if word 



36 KINC4 ALFRED. 

Ye bring about our royal chief. 

Dorset. Hath he 

Not yet arrived ? 

Somerset. As soon the sun go down 
At noon as Alfred break his plighted word ! 

Berks, (excited). I see a gleaming spot among 
the leaves, 
As though the sun did glint upon a helm, 
And nodding to the breeze an azure plume ! 
Thank Heaven, it is the king ! 

All. The king ! the king ! 

Miter, l. l., Alfred, Edwt, et al. Alfred greets 
chiefs as they cluster round him. 

Alfred. Brave hearts ! your loving loyalty hath 
wrought 
What anguish ne'er had power to work ; no tear 
Hath veiled mine eyes till now, like summer shower, 
They fall, though smiles the sun in cloudless sky. 
Yea, joy effects what sorrow might not do. 
But 'tis no hour for tears ! Exult we all ! 
Some days agone, in minstrel guise, I hied 
Me to the Danish camp, and there mine eyes 
And ears did learn that victory assured 
Is ours. 

\Here the Thanes cluster around Alfred, shouting 
"Hurrah!" 

The boastful foe have laid aside 
Their arms ; unharnessed now they sport as though 
The land was theirs ; they deem that we do hide 



ACT III. 37 

Like frighted hares, too timorous grown to face 

Them ever in the field again. Without 

A sentinel their tents, without a scout 

Their hosts ; their steeds unbridled straying browse 

Beyond their heedless masters' call. Their troops, 

From king to meanest groom, mid revelling cups 

Have doltish grown. Their brains all steeped in 

wine 
So with delusion reel, that all the wiles 
And art of war they've thrown aside with swords 
Now rusting in the sheaths. [Derisive shouts. 

My loyal thanes, 
The day now dawns that ushers in an age 
Of victory ! Our country piteous moans 
'Neath savage yoke. We'll hew it from her neck, 
And burn the fragments in atoning fires ! 
We'll grind the foe with stones of castles they 
Have razed ! We'll hunt them through the fields 
They've desert made ! [All shout, " We will!" 

We'll harness them to ploughs 
For steers ! The remnant that escapes shall bear 
Our burdens, cut our wood, and water draw ! 
Yea ?/ loyal chieftains, now the hour speeds on 
When our dear land shall lift her bruised head, 
Her breast no longer feel the armed heel 
Of Dane ! Let's break like whirlwind on their camp, 
And rend and rive and hurl them into rout 
Like leaves to atoms whirled in wrathful blast ! 
We timid hares will spring upon the throats 



38 KING ALFRED. 

They've in their folly bared. My fancy sees 
Them start and livid turn at sound of our 
Death-bearing charge ! I hear the amazed call 
Of captains to affrighted men, who grope 
For arms and mingle drunken curse with cry 
For steed ; too dull to know a friend from foe, 
They grapple madly with their fellow-Danes, 
Allies become, and speed their own defeat ! 

[All shout and flash swords. 

Athel. Lead on, lead on ; we'll follow in thy lead ! 

Alfred. Oh, well I knew your hearts would 
echo back 
Our country's call ! Strike off at once her chains ! 
To-morrow morn assemble with your clans 
On Ethandune. Lord Athelnoth shall lead 
The horse ; Lord Dorset shall the bowmen guide ; 
You, Berkshire, head the slingers, while the pikes 
Shall follow Hampshire's earl ; and, Wiltshire, thou 
Command the spearmen bold ; Lord Somerset 
Shall in reserve a chosen band retain. 
And yon, my lords {to others), the charges take that 

these 
Shall, on the morrow, give you in the field ; 
While I will ride to every point and lend 
My arm where'er the battle seems to lag. 
The time is short. Go each unto his post. 
But ere we part we'll knit our souls in one 
Supreme embrace. Your hands, my noble earls ! 



ACT IV. 39 

Farewell ! The god of armies we invoke 
To aid us rend the Danemen's cursed yoke ! 
[All kneel on one knee in circle round king and raise 
swords. 
All. Our swords, our lives, to country and to 
king, 
Our souls to God, we give in offering ! 
(Curtain falls on this tableau.) 



ACT IV. 

SCENE I. 

Wood. Battle going on ; confused sounds of shouting, etc. Sallies 
made across stage, l. c. to it. c. 

Enter Alfred and Ceolwulf fighting, r. l. Edric 
follows close on and interposes between Alfred 
and Ceolwulf. Enter other Soldiers ; Alfred 
drawn off in their rush. 
Ceolwulf. Thou craven-hearted knight, that 
durst not face 
Usurping prince without a plea for grace, 
I have thee now ! I'll grant thee grace, forsooth. 
But not thy coward life. So stand and strike ! 

[Makes pass at him. 
Thou castedst slur on me. I pay thee now. 
Take that, and that, thou rashly meddling knave ! 

[Makes lunges at /tint. 



4'0 KING ALFRED. 

Edric. O shame, a Saxon kinsman's blood to shed ! 
Yet traitor forfeits all his rights. Thou strik'st ? 
Then look thou to thy heart, for thine heart's blood 
Alone can wash such stain of infamy ! 

[Mortally wounds Ceolwulf, who falls. 
Forgive me, God, so grim a deed ; and, thane, 
Beg mercy on thy sin-bespotted soul ! 
[Ceolwulf dies. Edric, himself wounded, falls 

fainting. 
Enter Alfred, by same side as he ivent off; sees Edric. 
Alfred. What ! fallen, Edric ? Bathed art thou 
in blood ! 
Unlucky chance that bore me from thy side 
And left thee in my stead to fight so rude 
A knight, twice perjured in his knightly oath ! 

[Edric looks as if he were dying. 
But thou art stricken unto death ! Can naught avail 

to stanch these wounds ? 
[Takes him in his arms and tries to hind up the 
wounds. 
Edric (speaking slowly and gaspingly). 'Tis vain, 
dear lord ; 
My life-blood ebbs too fast. My task's fulfilled. 
I've saved that life 'gainst which I dared to raise 
A trait'rous hand. I've won me back the name 
I erst did bear of Saxon earl. I've washed 
My shield to stainless white in ruddy flow 
Of blood that costs me life. Call me once more 



ACT IV. 41 

Thy loyal knight and true — King — Alfred — ah ! 

[Gasping. 
I die. O Jesu, mercy ! Mary, help ! 

Asser, who has been acting as chaplain to army, 
appears on scene, l. l. 
Alfred. Oh, haste thee, Asser ; noble Edric dies ! 
[Edric dies in Alfred's arms ; Asser bending over 
him. Alfred covers him with shield after lay- 
ing him down. 

Rest 'neath the shield thy blood hath bleached 

white. 
Rest endless grant him God in realms of light ! 



SCENE II. 

Present the King and Soldiers. 

Lords Berkshire and Somerset rush in, l. c. 

Berks. My lord, my lord, the Danes, by Gothrun 

led, 
Do hotly press our central host. Our men, 
Though stubborn, yield them inch by inch. Wert 

thou 
But there, thou couldest backward bend the front 
Of Norse battalions madly rushing on ! 

Somerset (peers through I fees and exclaims). The 

Danish squadron makes this way, and from 
The dust leaps forth a black-plumed warrior ! 



42 KING ALFRED. 

Swiftly he draweth nigh ! 'Tis Norway's prince ! 
He's here ! ( To Alfred.) My lord, this breast thy 

bulwark be ! 
Enter Gothrun and Danes, l. c. Gothrun turns 
Somerset aside and runs him through. 
Gothrun. Block not my way, you mongrel cur ; I 

seek the king ! 
Alfred. The king seeks thee ! And here I stand 
To meet and fight and wipe thee from the land.! 
GoTHRinsr. Strike then, proud prince ; my sword 
mine answer give ! 
The man whom Gothrun feareth doth not live ! 
[They fight. Gothrun falls on one knee wounded ; 
still fights. Alfred knocks sword from his 
hand. 
Alfred. Dost mercy crave ? 

Gothrun. No favor crave I from 

A foe ! My life is thine ; do with it what 
Thou wilt. 

Alfred. Not endless death I will for thee, 
But life that lasts beyond this passing world ! 

[Stoops and lifts him up by the hand. 
Live, Gothrun ! share the Christian heritage ; 
Renounce thy heathen gods and rites profane, 
And, at this price so benefiting thee, 
Take back the sceptre thou hast lost, and, free 
Once more, rule o'er thy people led by thee 
Within the fold of Christ ! 



ACT IV. 43 

Gothrun {amazed; pauses awhile, then says). 

O Alfred, ne'er 
Saw I such generous foe, nor thought that heart 
Of man could show such magnanimity ! 
But oh ! too sudden is the change thou wouldst. 
Grant me a space, howe'er so brief, to learn 
That Christian faith which maketh gods of men ! 
Alfred. What time thou wilt is thine ; nor over- 
haste. 
The holy bishop here (pointing to Asser) shall to 

thy mind 
Unfold the saving truths. Good Asser, care 
For him as though 'twere Alfred. 
[Exeunt Asser and Gothrun, r. u. Sound of 'bu- 
gles, etc. Saxon troops rush on, shouting " Vic- 
tory /" 

Enter Wiltshire. 
Wilts. The Danemen flee on every side! No hope 
Have they ; their arms they cast away, their tents 
Forsake ; no thought but flight. They turn against 
Themselves, and to our cause conspire. So swift 
They fly, 'twould seem that fright had given wings : 
Our soldiers chase them to the very sea. 
Their corses homeward borne upon the main 
Shall tidings give to friends of dire defeat ! 
Enter Athelnoth, l. u., bearing a royal crown, 

mantle, etc. 
Athel. Rich booty bring I from the sacked 
camp — 



44 KING ALFRED. 

This royal crown and mantle for my liege. 
Alfred (starts on seeing them). It is the circlet 

worn by Anglia's kings ! 
How fell it into Danish gripe ? Alack, 
My castle fell a prey to enemies ! 
Thank God, my tender wife and babe escaped ! 
Athel. {makes signs to a soldier). We'll bid the 

holy bishop Asser come, 
(To Alfred.) And here, upon the battle-plain, he'll 

set, 
Mid loud huzzas and acclamations proud, 
The royal diadem upon thy head ! 
Enter Asser. 
Alfred. Nay, not upon this blood-besprinkled 

plain, 
Where many a valiant knight and yeoman brave 
Have gasped forth their soul in bitter pain. 
(To Asser.) But tarry yet awhile until sweet peace 
Shall reign where now discordant war breathes forth 
Its dying note ; then in our abbey church 
In solemn form thou'lt me anoint and on 
My forehead place the crown. 
(To lords, soldiers, etc.) This day sennight 

I bid you to the coronation-rite. 

| Exeunt, r. 



ACT V. 45 

ACT V. 

SCENE I.* 

Chamber in royal palace. Asser and Gothrun seated. 

Asser. Art ready now, my lord, to don the dress 
Of neophyte, to gain the priceless gift 
Of faith ? 

Gothrun. I little thought this stained soul 
Might pure become as that of simple child ! 
The only law I used of old to know 
Was that of wrong for wrong, and blood for blood, 
The noble Alfred hath laid bare the law 
Of love for fellow-men for Christ's dear sake. 
Yes, Asser, I would cast my sinful self 
In tide that washeth all the stains away. 
Anew I'd live, forgiving and forgiven. 

Asser. Naught hinders then that thou this boon 
should st gain. 
Let's bear these happy tidings to the king. 
Impatient he awaits, like one who, rich 
Himself, would fain his treasures share ; the pearl, 
The precious pearl of faith, and jewels rare 
Of grace, he eager longs that thou shouldst stretch 
Thy hand and take unto thine own. Wilt go ? 

Gothrun. Yea, holy father, I no longer doubt ; 
So haste we to the lofty -minded prince. [Exeunt, r. 

* The first and second scenes of this act may be omitted on 
the stage. 



46 KINK ALFRED. 

SCENE II. 

Royal chapel; font in foreground. King Alfred and Lords, 
etc. Asser. Gothrun in white tunic. 

Asser (standing by font). What dost thou seek 
of holy Church of God? 

Gothrun. Faith, saving faith, most earnestly I 
seek, 
And swear by all the saints who reign above 
That I renounce the devil and his pomps 
And lying vanities! No more I'll wrong 
The innocent — the widow, and the child 
Bereft of parents' care. No blood I'll shed 
Save in just cause. Mine enemies forgive ; 
My people rule in equity. So help 
Me God! His Mother blest, and all the host 
Of heaven — the angels mighty, and the just 
Already perfect made — my sponsors stand! 
'Fore them I raise and pledge my kingly hand! 

All. Amen, Amen ! A thousand times Amen ! 

SCENE III. 

Cathedral. Throne prepared. 
Enter long procession : Acolytes et ah; Asser; Sol- 
diers, Courtiers ; Lord Athelnoth, bearing 
crown on a velvet cushion; Lord Hampshire, 
the royal mantle; Lord Dorset, the state sivord; 
then Pages and the King. 
Somerset (as king-at-arms). Alfred, the son of 
Ethelwulf the king, 



ACT V. 47 

And brother to our late chief Ethelred, 
I here proclaim, in presence of you all, 
To be the suzerain of all the heptarchy; 
The lord of Essex, Wessex, and of Kent, 
Of Sussex, Mercia, and Northumberland, 
And of the Angles dwelling East. Long live 
The king! 

Assek. In holy name of God, I ask 
Of thee, most noble prince: Wilt thou here swear 
To rule thy people as becomes a king 
Who reigns as representative of Him 
Who is the sovereign Lord of earth and heaven ? 

Alfred. Yea, I do swear most solemnly to rule 
As in the sight of Him who is the King 
To whom I bow my knee, since from Him flows 
All sovereignty. And here I pledge you all 
That I devote my manhood's vigor, mind, 
And body, to the welfare of this realm. 
True justice I'll administer without 
Regard to rank or privilege ; and all, 
From earl to serf, shall taste the blessings that 
Arise from laws whose models are the laws 
Of God and of our holy Mother Church. 
In time of peace I'll be a father to 
My people, and their friend. In war their chief 
Who foremost leads the way, and in the front 
He dies or, living, triumphs o'er his people's foes! 

[Shouts of, "Long live King Alfred /" 
Kind friends, I fain would you outstrip in deeds, 









48 KING ALFRED. 



For words are feeble to express the thoughts 

That swell within my mind, aroused by your 

Sore-tried and valued loyalty. For you 

I live, be God my witness and my aid! 

{To Asser.) And now this royal crown and mantle 

bless, 
And pray I wear them both in righteousness ! 
[The Bishop places the crown on his head am 7, e 
mantle upon his shoulders. People again "y 9 
"God save the king /" and sing hymn : 
Hail! hail! all hail! all hail! 

Hail, prince who now returnest - 
Triumphant o'er thy foes ! 

Hail, eager heart that burnest 
To soothe thy country's woes ! 
Hail, Alfred, who enthrallest 
Our hearts but free'st our hands ! 

Hail, warrior who appallest 
The foemen of our lands ! 

Hail, Alfred, who hast freed us 
From Denmark's savage horde ! 

God bless our king! God speed us! 
God save our true liege lord! 
Hail! hail! all hail! 



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